The new member
by Stuffedolive92
Summary: Draco Malfoy has just finished his fifth year at Hogwarts and following the release of his father from Azkaban is encourage to become a Death Eater. The story follows Draco's encounter with Voldemort who will determine if he is worthy enough to become a Death Eater, without seeing his innocent and sensitivie side. Does Draco have what it takes to kill; a Muggle? Please Review!


Draco Malfoy, sat on the edge of his bed listening to the pattering of the rain which pelted against the window of his bedroom. He watched as the water trickled down the glass and thought about how much he detested this weather, most importantly because it was the middle of summer and he was itching to ride his broom. But today, he'd decided that this rain was a treat seeing as it so suited the occasion; the occasion when Voldemort came to visit. And when that happened, it always rained. Glancing up at his clock he saw that it was two minutes to five and quickly took one last look at himself in the mirror.

Staring back at him was the reflection of a boy who'd just turned sixteen and was nothing more than that; wasn't anymore bigger, braver or smarter than he was a year before. It was funny how you reached an age that automatically gave you respect and certain privileges, even though deep down you still felt the same, unchanged and unsure of whether you were ready to take on that title or those challenges.

Sighing, he patted down a loose strand of his sleek blonde hair and blinked his pale blue eyes several times, because they felt strangely dry. Lastly, he straightened his black robes and then picked up his wand before taking a seat again on his bed, just as someone call him.

"Draco?" came a small voice from the door and he looked up to see his mother peering through the door, her face white.

"Yes mother?" He got to his feet.

"He's waiting for you."

Draco felt his heart, skip a beat; Voldemort, the Dark Lord was waiting for _him_. He was sitting three rooms away, wanting to see _him_.

"Come, come," Narcissa said hurriedly, leading him out of his room. "He doesn't like to be kept waiting. The Dark Lord hates waiting."

Nodding, he walked on, surprised when she quickly caught his arm and pulled him to face her.

"Do everything he says," she said in an almost inaudible voice, her face half consumed by darkness. "For our sake, for your father's sake, please the Dark Lord."

She looked terrified as she said this, her black eyes searching him as if he were the only thing that could save them.

"Yes mother, I will."

"Good," she said and she kissed him on the cheek and embraced him, her trembling breath lingering near his ear as she pulled away.

"Go," she whispered and he turned and climbed down the stairs, looking back only to see that she'd disappeared.

When he reached the dining hall, he found that the curtains had been drawn and the only light that illuminated the room were a row of flickering candles that lined the long table. Sitting at it were two pale figures who immediately looked up as he entered.

"Ahh, Draco," croaked his father, Lucius, who was sitting at the very end on the side. He looked terrible since he'd left Azkaban with his handsome face haggard and his long blonde hair thinning. His clear blue eyes were now bloodshot and weary and for the past three days he'd been wearing the same soiled robes that he'd arrived in from prison. Lucius got up and came to his son only to be stopped by a cold high voice which seemed to pierce the still air.

"Sit Lucius, I did not ask you to rise."

His father froze, his eyes wide as they darted between Draco and the man behind him. Slowly, his sank back down in his seat.

"Draco Malfoy," said the voice and he felt the skin on his neck prickle as his eyes met those of the owner. Voldemort was sitting at the head of the table, dressed in long flowing black robes, his skin so white and paper thin that you could see every vein beneath it. His head was hairless and as smooth as an alabaster egg with slits for nostrils and a pair of blood red eyes with pupils as sharp as cats. It was the eyes that everyone would talked about, the way they seemed to dissect you where you stood which made Draco nervous to his core. Voldemort leaned back in his chair which groaned under the weight of the twelve foot snake, Nagini, who slithered around the head, curling her way around her master's body.

"M-My Lord," he stammered and avoiding eye contact he made an awkward bow unsure of how reverent he had to be. Looking up, he tried to catch Voldemort's expression, only to hear him laugh.

"Such respect," he said, sliding his long fingers up the body of Nagini. "Your son is promising Lucius."

"Thank you my lord."

And Draco glanced down at his father who was staring at the table.

"Come my boy, come sit down next to your father."

Voldemort's thin lips had curled into a smile and he was gesturing to the seat between him and Lucius.

Without hesitance, Draco proceeded towards his chair and sat down, remaining as still as possible with Nagini moving only inches away from him.

"So," said Voldemort, "your father has told me that you are interested in joining my ranks as a Death Eater, is that right Draco?"

He cringed at the sound of his name. "Yes, my Lord, that is right. I would consider it an honour to serve for you if you will have me."

There was silence for a second and then Voldemort laughed again, this time high pitched.

"Your enthusiasm never ceases to impress me Draco; I see your father has done well in instilling it within you, no doubt. And your presence will indeed be valuable, as you know Potter well."

Voldemort's tone changed when he mentioned the name 'Potter' and Draco could practically feel the heat of rage radiating off him. "However Potter alone isn't my only concern at this moment."

"No, my Lord?" Draco couldn't help but be surprised.

"No," he said coolly. "It is the one who is closest to him, the man who will do anything to protect that boy. Do you know who that is Draco?"

Voldemort stared at him with an intensity that could burn right through to his soul. It was so frightening that suddenly his mind went blank, which led to him having no idea what came out of his mouth.

"A-Albus Dumbledore?"

The Dark Lord smiled and let out a cackle. Draco wasn't sure if this was good or bad.

"Such a bright boy you have Lucius, he knows exactly what I'm talking about."

Lucius's eyes shifted to Voldemort and he licked his lips. "Thank you."

"Yes, Draco you're quite right, Dumbledore is the one we are turning out attention to now. He is Potter's greatest defence and knowledge base, if we get through him, we get through Potter. I mean, what is a wizard without his wand?"

Draco wondered if this was another question to test him and was half about to say 'muggle' in response, but Voldemort continued speaking.

"It is for Dumbledore that I have a big task for you, Draco. A big responsibility that I will rest on your shoulders, understand? Potter's fall depends on it and if you fail there will be dire consequences."

Draco felt the blood rush from his head and the sudden the sensation to get up and runaway, he was so petrified.

"W-what is the task?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed and then suddenly Nagini began to slither off him and onto the table. She was leaving him.

"That I will tell you later," he said, rising fluidly from his chair. "If of course, you can prove you are worthy of becoming a Death Eater."

"My Lord, my loyalty is to you, I will serve no other…you have my word." That line he'd learnt off his father and he hoped that it was genuine enough.

Voldemort took out his wand and held it in an outstretched arm.

"I do not want your word," he in a low voice, his eyes fixed on Draco. "I want _proof_."

"I don't understa-."

"Come," he said, beckoning him with his other hand. "You are to come with me."

Draco swallowed and looked nervously at his father.

'Go!' mouthed Lucius, his eyes wide, as he kept his head down. 'Go, now!'

Turning back, Draco stepped towards Voldemort, his wand grasped in his own hand too.

"Good," said the Dark Lord. "Now stand still."

So he did and then Draco felt the Dark Lord's fingers upon his own shoulder just when everything went black. Suddenly there was a violent jerking all over his body as if there were forces pushing and pulling him in every direction, as if every particle in him were disfiguring and rearranging themselves. His tried to cry out but he couldn't breathe; there was an immense pressure on his chest, his arms and legs felt like they were being pulled out of his sockets, whilst his eyes felt like they were being sucked back within his skull. During the whole time, Voldemort's grip remained constant on his shoulder and became tighter only when the blackness began to fade and then suddenly Draco felt his feet hit hard ground. Stumbling forward, Draco coughed, gulping in great lungfuls of air, as the pain left his body.

Behind him, he heard Voldemort shifting quietly and then the swish of a wand. Getting up, he saw that the two of them were on a windswept grassy knoll that over looked a country town which was nestled amongst a forest that bordered the outside. The sky was heavy with grey clouds and rain was falling thick and fast around them. Draco, instinctively pulled the hood of his cloak over his head but soon realised there was no need, he wasn't getting wet. Looking at his hands, he watched as the water drops from the clouds above fell, only to evaporate centimetres from his skin, as if there were a scorching heat burning from him. Surprised, he glanced at Voldemort who was watching him patiently and noticed how it was happening to him too, his form surrounded by a hazy outline where the rain deflected. He'd never seen this kind of magic before and all he could do was stand amazed; then again he was with Voldemort and with him anything could happen. He just hoped if he was accepted as a Death Eater, one day he could do something like this.

"Draco, come," said Voldemort softly and turning swiftly, he strode down the hill, his robes untouched by the gale like winds. Draco followed quietly, watching how the Lord seemed to glide over the grass as if he weren't even touching it and also the fact that he was completely barefoot as well.

They walked in silence for five minutes or so until they neared a thicket of trees, to which Voldemort turned and looked at him.

"Draco," he said. "It is time to prove your loyalty to me, so I'm setting you a test."

"A test?"

"Yes…follow me."

Stepping forward his disappeared behind some trees and Draco did the same, pocketing his wand as he pushed his way through branches, twigs scratching his face and arms. Finally he found Voldemort standing in a clearing, looking out over a couple of hedges as Draco came to join him at his side. Following his gaze, he could see a large playground where five muggle children were playing happily on the equipment, despite the heavy rain which was falling on them. Two of them were chasing each under the ladders and slides, another couple sat on the see-saw and giggled as it went up and down.

Draco found it pathetic seeing how these muggles could find entertainment in such primitive things; at this age he was riding around on toy brooms, making his parent's valuable's disappear for a laugh or capturing toads and making them explode just because he could. The last muggle child, a boy was standing just metres away from them, crouched over a puddle where he was piling up mud with a stick.

"To prove you can be a follower of me Draco you must do one thing."

"What's that my Lord?"

Voldemort smiled coldly and Draco saw that his eyes were fixed on the boy in the distance.

"You must kill a muggle child."

Draco froze and his wand clattered to the ground.

"I'm sorry my Lord," he said, stooping down to pick it up. "You want me to kill…"

"A muggle," said Voldemort his voice toneless. "That is what you have to do to prove you are suitable to be within my ranks. As a pureblood you should show no mercy against these inferior beings."

Draco felt his head spinning as he looked between Voldemort and the little boy who was sitting there oblivious to their presence. He couldn't kill this child.

"Draco?"

"Yes," he said, clutching his wand this time; his hand was sweating.

"Do it. Or…," he paused and looked at him curiously. "Are you showing a fondness to those muggles?"

"No," he said automatically.

"Are you sure? Because I thought you could do this…your mother and father seemed so promising in their comments about you. They said that were avid…that you wouldn't disappoint."

Draco's heart was racing, why couldn't he do this? He was a pureblood, he was superior to this filth before him. He should be able to kill this little boy here and walk away satisfied that there'd be one less muggle in the world, that he'd done his parents proud. But this was testing all that he was or at least he thought he was.

"I can do it," he said, concentrating on the boy. "I-I'll kill him."

"Good, go on then."

He felt Voldemort's eyes on his back as he gripped his wand and raised it, his hand trembling. He was shaking now, half caught between guilt and the urge to prove himself worthy enough. This might be the only thing he was good at. He breathed and fought back the voice that told him not to do it; he thought of why he wanted to do it, concentrating on the hate he had for muggles, the hate he had for those were muggleborn and magical and for those who loved muggles. He thought of Harry Potter who lived with them, that filthy mudblood Hermione Granger, the blood traitor Weasley and that muggle lover Dumbledore.

"Avada Kadrava," he bellowed and he pointed his wand, a green jet of light shooting out across the playground towards the boy. But within that split second two things happened; as he cast the spell, his arm jerked upwards slightly as if someone else were controlling it and then the curse ricocheted off the playground equipment, missing the boy's head by inches.

The force of the spell made Draco lurch back and he fell to the ground panting, unsure of what happened.

At the playground there were terrified screams as the children on the equipment turned and fled, leaving their toys and belongings behind. The fifth muggle boy, who was still crouched in the mud, stared blindly at the bushes where Draco had cast the spell and rising slowly, he quickly sprinted off, screeching, "Help!"

Groping for his wand, Draco got to his feet and straightened his robes, paying extra attention to brush off every speck of leaf and dirt so that he wouldn't have to face Voldemort.

"I-I'm sorry my Lord," he gasped, "I c-could have hit that filthy muggle…I've let you down."

He had blown it completely all because deep down he felt mercy for that little boy. He hoped for his sake that Voldemort hadn't detected it.

"That is quite alright, Draco," the Dark Lord said. "You have completed what I have asked."

Draco frowned, confused.

"My Lord."

"Your determination is admirable," he replied and that was all his said of it, before walking up the rainy hill again.

Draco stared at him in his wake, trying to come to terms with what had happened. Had he been accepted or hadn't he? The answer was killing him and all Voldemort had done was leave him to wonder. Nearing the top of the hill, the Dark Lord extended his wand arm out again and then placed his hand on Draco's shoulder when he reached him. During that split second, Draco took the chance to ask, "My Lord have I proven myself?" only to see Voldemort looked down at him expressionless, before his face dissolved into that gut wrenching darkness. Then suddenly they were back in the dining hall again.

"Draco," said Lucius rising at his son's suddenly appearance, then his eyes fell. "My Lord…"

Voldemort released his grip from Draco's shoulder and strode over to reclaim Nagini who was already slithering towards him.

"I will negotiate your son's circumstances later, Lucius," he said, his voice nor face signifying good or bad. "Thank you for your hospitality as always, I must leave."

"It's a pleasure, my Lord," said his father totally confused by the vagueness of his response. "As always it was an honour."

Voldemort nodded and then turned to Draco, his eyes more piercing than usual. "I will see you quite soon, Draco."

"Thank you, my Lord," he replied and with that Voldemort and Nagini vanished in a flash of black leaving his father and himself totally alone.

"What happened?" Lucius hissed, already halfway around the table when he'd left. "Tell me! What did you do?"

"I-."

"Lucius," came a high voice and suddenly his mother came in, her sullen face wet; she'd been crying. "Don't scowl at him yet, he hasn't even explained. Draco dear, what happened?"

Seeing his parents anxious faces, Draco suddenly broke down and told them everything; the place Voldemort had taken him, the task he'd wanted him to do, how he'd failed to do it and how the Dark Lord's only response was that he had 'determination'. He made sure to leave out the part about him showing remorse for the muggle boy, especially when he knew that it was the factor that stopped him from killing the child.

"So he said nothing?" demanded Lucius, staring his son down. "Nothing at all?"

"No," murmured Draco.

He ran a hand through his hair and began to bite on another nail, positively stressed. His mother seeing that this was the last finger on his second hand, intervened.

"Lucius, that's enough. Can't you see he's panicking? He's tired, he said he doesn't know."

His father scoffed. "Don't give me that, Narcissa. He does know, he's just a coward and can't tell us that he failed us! That he was too pathetic to kill a mudblood!"

His mother bristled. "How dare you say such a thing? Our son is not a coward! If anything, he's brave for having to pick up the pieces that you left of your pride when you were put in Azkaban! You're the coward Lucius, selling your son's life off, so that you can earn the respect of your Death Eater friends!"

This silenced his father and with one beady glance at the two of them, Lucius stormed out of the room pushing a chair over in his rage.

"Don't listen to him," said Narcissa automatically. "He's just full of regret and he had all his hopes on you."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "And what if I have failed?"

Narcissa breathed in sharply and looked away. "We won't know," she said quietly. "Especially with the Dark Lord anything can happen, but let's not think about it."

And with that she leant down and kissed him on the forehead.

"Good night, Draco."

"Good Night."

After bidding her good night, Draco went straight to bed, unsure of what to do or say. All he could think of was if he'd done good enough, if Voldemort would let him become a Death Eater. He recounted everything that had happened through their meeting, analysing everything done and said until finally his eyes began to lapse and he fell asleep. Within seconds, he was in a totally different place where there were tall oak trees and bushes that rose up before him, cutting into the sky where dark rain clouds were fusing together. He was sitting, almost kneeling in long grass, holding in his hand not a wand by a stick which he was working through a puddle, trying to make a castle and moat out of mud. He seemed to do this for a while, finding the idea of pushing mud into a pile strangely constructive. Behind him, he could hear children laughing and calling out to him. He tried to turn and look at them but he couldn't twist his body around, it seemed fixed to the crouched position he was in. Then it started to rain heavy, but still he pottered on, digging up the mud over and over as it slid back into puddle. Suddenly, he saw something in the bushes, a whitened face, his own face, staring straight at him. The expression of the second him seemed blank and almost lifeless as he raised his own wand and pointed it at him. Seeing it, he knew what was going to happen and tried to get to his feet only to find that he couldn't move, the mud had fixed him to the one place. He panicked and tried to pull his hands out, his arm left arm searing in pain as the stick he was holding and solidified in the mud too, drove into his skin. Looking up, he saw the second him raise his wand lithely and after uttering a single word, there was a flash of green light and then excruciating pain.

Sitting bolt upright in his bed, Draco woke up panting, his whole body drenched in a cold sweat. Breathing hard, he ran a hand through his hair, finding that unlike the dream, his pain had continued, his left forearm burning like it was on fire.

'I must have slept on it,' he thought to himself, and reaching for his wand he murmured 'Lumos', a blue ball of light swelled at it point. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he pulled up the left sleeve of his pyjama top and directed his wand to it, only to stop dead at the sight of what he found. There on his forearm, seared and black was the Dark Mark, which seemed to writhe before his eyes, the snake coiling itself out and around the menacing human skull. At that moment Draco felt his skin crawl and he wasn't sure if it was because the mark was moving or that he was genuinely terrified at its sudden appearance. All he knew was that Voldemort had made a choice; he was a Death Eater.


End file.
